


World on Fire

by fluffyxcloud



Category: Highlight | Beast (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Fireman, M/M, b2st is the best, drama but ends up fluffy, guess who it is, junseung - Freeform, saved from a burning building, this was written long before the split :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyxcloud/pseuds/fluffyxcloud
Summary: the building was burning, a boy was crying, and one fireman takes the risk to save a life still trapped inside.





	World on Fire

The building was burning.

 

The building was burning and he was crying, screaming, fighting against the fireman’s strong arms and calling to his friend still inside. He screamed and his voice broke, words lodging in his throat, damming the pleas and wishes and words he longed to shout to the world—words that would tell the man holding him _my friend is in there, let me the fuck go and save him! Save him…_

 

A fireman over by truck saw the hysterical boy in his comrade’s arms and went over to offer assistance. He reached close enough and heard the anguished cries ripping from worn vocal chords and thought he hadn’t worked long enough to become immune to humanity’s pain. He hadn’t lived long enough to wear the tears and sorrow to a dull point—he felt the boy’s cries like they came from his heart and he stepped closer, already feeling his heart tug towards the boy’s cause.

 

“What’s going on,” he asked, sounding professional but really just trying to understand where he could start helping.

 

“He says his friend is still inside the building,” his coworker said, locking a stern grip on his wrist and imprisoning the still struggling boy in his arms.

 

“Please,” the boy shouted, staring at him with wild eyes, tears tracking ugly streaks of soot and dirt down his face, red rims and bloodshot vessels reminding him of a crazed animal. “Please,” and in that plea he heard everything he needed to know.

 

“What floor,” he asked urgently, knowing time was the enemy.

 

“Third, _third_ ,” the boy said, eyes brightening in hope but still shoving denial and pain behind cloudy irises.

 

His coworker let out a shout of warning but he was already going, heading towards the burning apartments, smoke billowing out from higher floors, powerful jet streams of water fighting the blaze. He sprinted past the perimeter and into the building, heading straight for the stairs. It was eerily quiet on the first floor, the only sign of disaster being the clouds of smoke billowing down the stairwell and floating forebodingly in the lobby. Another fireman came in behind him—his friend.

 

“We’ve got little time,” his friend said through his mask, tapping the helmet on his head and gesturing for him to put his mask on as well.

 

“Thanks,” he said thankfully and he and his taller comrade went up the stairs.

 

The third floor was thick and black with smoke, the heat burning at his exposed skin and he carefully stepped into the hallway. “Is anyone here?!” he called loudly, eyes sweeping the hallway. Silence and the faint sound of crackling greeted his call.

 

“Get the right,” he directed his friend and moved to the first door on the left. He cursed himself for not asking the hysterical boy downstairs what room his friend was in. He kicked the first door open, calling out for a sign of life.

 

No one.

 

They went like that, down the hallway, feeling the smoke thicken and the color red starting to flicker in their peripheries. “We have to go soon,” his friend yelled over the sound of groaning. The heat pressed in, smoke making him lightheaded and breath was hard to come by.

 

“One more minute,” he yelled, desperate to not disappoint that boy, desperate to not waste this opportunity.

 

Desperate not to let someone die.

 

He kicked open another door, the flames now on the third floor and licking up the walls. “Is anyone in here?!” he screamed, coughs interrupting the end of his question. He was about to turn around and go out before he heard a weak call come from further inside the apartment. He shouted out to his friend and entered in further, seeing a body lying on the floor of the living room. “What’s wrong?” he asked loudly, going over to the man and checking for injuries.

 

The man was struggling to breathe and clutching at his throat, chest heaving and he realized that the man must have terrible asthma. The smoke was simultaneously giving him an asthma attack and suffocating him. “Shit,” he muttered, leaning over and scooping the light man up in his arms. His friend was at the door and together they went out, practically running down the hall and into the stairwell. The smoke could be cut with a knife and the building let out another ominous groan.

 

“Can we get the _fuck_ out of here!?” his friend yelled uselessly as they pounded down the stairs. The man in his arms was still choking for air and he flew down the stairs, not caring that he was jostling him for the time being—he needed to get an oxygen mask on him.

 

They burst into the lobby, smoke now more prominent, and through the main door. He immediately bee-lined for the ambulance nearby as his friend went to the boy, now staring at the man limp in his arms and tears rolling thickly down his face.

 

He went to the ambulance and the man was taken immediately from his arms, the emergency doctors taking over.

 

 

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“Jang, you’ve got a visitor,” his chief called over the intercom. Hyunseung looked up from his seat at the table in the fire station and made a face. He didn’t think anyone was going to see him today.

 

He walked to the front and quickly ran a hand down his black tank and checked to see that the bottom of his shirt connected to the waistline of his jeans, making sure he was at least slightly presentable.

 

A familiar boy was standing there next to Doojoon. Hyunseung remembered his face—desperate and wild. Compared to now the boy was a completely different person. Wide, kind eyes and an easy smile graced his features and he looked at Hyunseung as if greeting a long, lost friend.

 

“You,” Hyunseung said dumbly, walking up to the two men. He looked at Doojoon confusedly. “What are you doing with him?”

 

Doojoon grinned and scratched the back of his head. “I gave him my contact information in case he needed anything. Little did I know he’d use it for coffee.” The boy next to him dug his elbow into Doojoon’s waist and the taller man flinched away.

 

“I’m Yoseob,” he said, bowing. Hyunseung blinked and bowed back, still not fully understanding the situation.

 

“Thank you so much for saving Junhyung,” Yoseob said, straightening back up. “I don’t want to think about if you hadn’t been there. What Jun might have—” he choked off, biting his lower lip and Doojoon wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Hyunseung raised an eyebrow at their closeness.

 

“Anyway,” Yoseob continued, smile once again turning his lips up, “he wants to meet you. Thank you. You’ll come, won’t you?”

 

Hyunseung shifted on his feet, glancing at the chief still sitting at the desk behind them. “Go on,” he said, “I’ve got the station overstaffed today anyway. Besides, I’ll use this against you later when I need someone to come in.”

 

“Thanks,” Hyunseung said dryly before turning back to the other men. “Alright, we can go now, if you like.”

 

Yoseob grinned and whirled around and Hyunseung kind of understood why Doojoon was so into this boy.

 

The trip to the hospital was uneventful, Yoseob chattering away about his long friendship with Junhyung and how the man always had a horrible history of asthma. He was still chatting as they walked through the winding halls of the hospital. He only stopped when they reached room 174. Standing in front, Yoseob smiled and faced Hyunseung. “This is it!” he said before opening the door.

 

“Junnie, I brought him~” he called, walking comfortably into the room as if he owned it and sitting in the chair at Junhyung’s side.

 

Hyunseung stood in the doorway, hesitating before walking to the foot of the Junhyung’s bed. The man in question was leaning against the pillows, writing on a notepad and finishing his thought before he looked up, meeting eyes with the fireman.

 

“Hyunseung, right?” he smiled and Hyunseung’s heart caught in his throat. He was beautiful, small eyes squinting in a smile and Hyunseung noticed the faint line in between them from too many years of scowling.

 

“That’s me,” he said softly, eyes drinking in the sight of the man in front of him.

 

“Thank you,” the man in the bed said, “I owe you my life.”

 

“It’s my job,” Hyunseung muttered, suddenly shy.

 

Junhyung chuckled and waved his hand, gesturing Hyunseung to come over to his side. The fireman did that, replacing Yoseob’s spot and the boy smiled knowingly before stepping out of the room and joining Doojoon. Hyunseung coughed into the silence of the room. Junhyung smirked and ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad and handed it to him.

 

“What’s this,” Hyunseung asked before glancing down to see a sketch of him with a phone number next to it. He was in his uniform, soot on his face and looking like something out of a comic book. He looked like a hero. Hyunseung couldn’t believe that he and the him in this picture were the same.

 

“You looked like that when you saved me,” Junhyung mused, stretching his arms in front of him. “I know its lame and clichéd but, I think I fell for you that day.”

 

Hyunseung looked up from the picture and met Junhyung’s eyes. “Are you sure that’s not just survivor’s gratitude speaking? You don’t even know me.”

 

Junhyung made an unimpressed face. “I suppose that could be it,” he agreed. “But I’d like to get the chance to know if it’s more than that. I get released tomorrow, can I take you out?”

 

Hyunseung bit his lip, fighting a blush and mentally reminded himself that he was a bad-ass fireman. “I’d like that,” he finally said, realizing a refusal would make him wonder for the rest of his life.

 

“I need that agreement signed like a contract,” Junhyung said seriously. Hyunseung squinted.

 

“How so?” Junhyung gestured to him conspiratorially and Hyunseung leaned in. Junhyung kissed him on the lips and Hyunseung flew back up.

 

“Like that,” Junhyung said victoriously. “Don’t worry about giving me your number; I’ve already gotten it from Doojoon.”

 

And Hyunseung wondered if Junhyung had also lost a bit of his mind in that burning building. 

 

 

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End file.
